


Attempting Happily Ever After

by castiel_thepizzaman



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Happy Ending, Interspecies Relationship(s), Love, M/M, Pain, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-04
Updated: 2014-09-11
Packaged: 2018-02-16 03:30:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2254212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castiel_thepizzaman/pseuds/castiel_thepizzaman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a witch curses Dean it puts a strain on the friendship he has with Castiel. But even after the curse wears off, Dean cannot get the angel off his mind. So he has two options: try to ignore it, or attempt to get his own happily ever after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first of a multi-chapter story. This story is complete and will be posted ever Wednesday, or as close to Wednesday as I can get. 
> 
> Please bear with me, my writing style was all over the place at the beginning and I promise that it gets better in the later chapters. It's rough and I'm so sorry. 
> 
> Thank you for reading! Feel free to comment on anything good, bad, or in-between!

'This is it.' Dean groaned, pushing himself off the factory floor with his hands. They stung from the burn he had gotten when trying to stop his fall, and then another flash of stinging pain had come when they came in contact with the dirt and grime of the floor, but that was the least of Dean's problems at the moment. Pain could wait, but right now it was a life or death situation. A heavy thud hit the wall to his left and Dean could only assume that was Sam being thrown, especially since the noise that was made from the body was a low, masculine groan. Well, he did have to give her props, not many people could lift Sam off the floor, much less throw him hard enough against a wall to make it hurt.

Just minutes previously, Sam and Dean had walked into what seemed to be a trap. Coming face to face with the witch they had spent a week tracking. The factory had looked empty enough and the brothers were sure that their lead had come to a dead end. But once they entered the main floor, the woman was standing there. Her messy black hair covering most of her pale face, her white dress torn and dirty. And before either one of them could react, she was on them, her face wanting their blood to spill onto the floor, her hands trying to dig through their chests to hold their hearts. The fact that they were still beating, and contained safely in their chests angered the witch.

Silence surrounded them, only the sound of their heavy breathing could be heard, and Dean glanced over at Sam, seeing a trail of blood leaking down his face from a wound above his hairline. But the younger Winchester was alert, his eyes scanning the room from his collapsed position, half of his back leaning against the wall. Dean's eyes left his brother and scanned the room. There was no sign of her, but of course she had disappeared before and come back with a vengeance, her desire to rip out their hearts and use them as sacrifice had increased. 

A scream penetrated the silence, a signal that she was ready to attack them again. Dean, desperate, closed his eyes and mumbled out a half-assed prayer. “Cas. Feathery ass. Down here. Now.” 

Simple. Short. And to the point. Dean had never gotten the hang of the eloquent and pleasant praying. It took too much time and seemed so supercilious. Especially when the angel would come no matter how Dean called for him.

Dean opened his eyes and his hand tightened on the handle of his knife before he turned, staggering upright, his knees still weak from the blow that the witch had landed on his stomach. Whirling around, Dean was not expecting to come face to face with the exact thing they were hunting. 

“Dean!” Sam shouted out, trying to struggle to his feet as well. He was worse for the wear, the blood gushing down the side of his face and his disoriented face showing that something was off.

Eyes wide, Dean brought the knife up to protect him, but the witch just watched him quietly before she raised her palm and placed it to his forehead. Before Dean could react he felt his body crackle with electricity, each nerve on edge, and his temperature rising, creating the oddest sensation in his body. A small groan of confusion left the man's lips and he tried to slice at the witch in front of him. But she just stepped back taking lowering her hand to the side of her body. The witch's face, which had been so calm and curious just seconds before, changed back to twisted rage with a blood thirsty-grin. She raised her hand again, her long nails glistening in the soft light of the sun shining through the windows, preparing to rip right through the skin on Dean's chest.

But the hand never fell. Instead a gurgling noise welled up from between the witch's lips, and her face turned to one of surprise and then fear before her eyes went dark and she slumped towards the ground. 

Castiel let the witch fall, watching her body hit the ground and lie still, blood welling and pooling underneath her from the knife that was buried in her back. The angel looked down at his hand, feeling the sticky sensation of blood on his fingertips. With almost a curious look on his face, he turned his hand over a few times, inspecting the red substance that was considered humans life force. But within seconds, Castiel had used his grace to scrub his fingers clean and he reached down, grabbing the angel knife out of the witch's back and returning it to its proper place inside his trench coat. Finally, the angel glanced at the two men in the room with him. Sam seemed slightly disoriented, but Dean just stared at him with his big green eyes, and for some reason, it seemed as if Dean's eyes seemed to carry desire, and that caused Castiel to feel slight discomfort.

Deciding that his greeting had been forgone long enough, Castiel began to speak, his low voice rumbling around the factory in a quiet echo. “Sam, Dean, hello.” Stepping over the witch, Castiel strode across the factory floor, his trench coat flaring out behind him as he went to stand in front of Sam. 

“Hey, Cas.” Sam chuckled weakly. Castiel reached up and placed two fingers on Sam's forehead, feeling his grace flow from his fingertips and heal the damage the witch had done to the younger Winchester. A slight emptiness accompanied the leaving of some of his grace, but once it's work was done it would return to Castiel along with some of the residing pain from Sam's wounds. But by now, Castiel had healed the boys so many times that he was used to it, he would take their pain any day as long as it meant they were safe. Sam's eyes brightened and he blinked twice, almost as if remembering what had happened and where he was. A small smile pulled up the left corner of the angel's lips. This. This reminded him that the boys still needed him, that he was still useful to them. That he was still their friend. 

Friends. It seemed like a foreign word to Castiel. But it was what the Winchesters called him, and it was what he called them in return. But in meeting these two men, many foreign things had been happening to Castiel, and he could honestly say, he enjoyed every second of it.

Sam and Castiel then turned to glance at Dean who seemed to be frozen in place. Seeing Castiel kill that witch and then stand over her dead body. Well, Dean thought that was the most manly and most handsome thing he had ever seen. Dean was fighting the urge to run over to the angel, wrap his arm around his waist and press him into a vehement kiss. He knew it was wrong, to kiss a friend like that, especially a male friend. But something in his mind was still pushing him. 

Instead of focusing on Castiel, Dean let his eyes rest on the witch, noticing how pretty she was, especially now that she was not half-mad and wanting to spill the brothers blood. Closing his eyes, Dean's head tilted to the floor, trying to get his bearings. Her face looked like she was in a deep sleep, the worry and hatred erased, turning her into a peaceful and beautiful woman. Her dress was not revealing, but it was form fitting enough, and it rode up her right thigh. The witch's hair was still a mess, but it splayed over her left hand which rested inches from her face. She was a woman that Dean would go for. but at the moment, she just looked like a person. Her face would be unrecognizable to him in a crowd. It confused the man that he couldn't find her attractive and a woman that he would gladly sleep with depending on the circumstances. 

Her body was lovely, with curves and rather full breast. But it was not strong, Dean knew he could not grab on tight with out fear of hurting her, and the mammary tissue seemed pointless at the moment. Suddenly, the image of carving in the angel banishing sigil onto Castiel's chest plagued Dean. That was lovely, Castiel's body, firm and strong beneath his hands, a small shudder passing over the angels skin as the box cutter slid through his pale flesh. Although her face was lovely, those were not the bright blue eyes of Castiel, there was no stubble, no short and messed up hair. That was not his angel.

A small groan passed between Dean's lips. He was doing it again. Thinking of Castiel in a romantic and sexual way. It had never happened before, and this was not the first time Dean had been in Castiel's debt. His body felt warm and Dean figured he must have hit his head when he fell. There could be no other explanations for why he was suddenly having such strong feelings for the angel.

“Dean?” The low voice rumbled, and it felt like it was vibrated through Dean's body, causing odd sensations. Opening his eyes, Dean glanced up quickly seeing Castiel take a few hesitant steps towards him, standing a few feet from the hunter in order to maintain the personal space that Dean liked. But even though Dean had drilled it into the angel's head that standing too close to him was uncomfortable and not something he liked, Dean couldn't care less. Without thinking, the hunter's hands grabbed the tan lapels on the trench coat and pulled himself up against Castiel, knowing that he would never be able to move the angel with his strength. Slight surprise was shown in Castiel's bright blue eyes on an otherwise stoic face, and two fingers raised to Dean's forehead, stopping the man in his tracks. “What are you doing?”

Dean was unable to answer the angel, his eyes focused on the lips that repeated the words that he had just said. Sam was in his brother's peripheral vision, but he just stood still, his eyes darting from one to the other. Attempting to lean closer to Castiel, Dean realized that the strong fingers on his forehead hindered the progress.

The surprise had left the angel eyes, instead replace with confusion. “Something's wrong, Dean.”

“Damn right something's wrong.” Dean replied, straining forward. His body felt like it had not had sex in years, hormones pumping at being so close to Castiel this way. All Dean wanted was Castiel, and he was frustrated that the angel was blocking his attempts.

Sam finally spoke up, stepping forward. “The witch touched him. You don't think she put a curse on Dean, do you, Cas?”

Those words seemed to break through to Dean and he stopped struggling against Castiel's fingers. Realization dawning on him. “That witch cursed me.” He found it difficult to step away from Castiel, but he did, staring at his fingers and willing them to unclench Castiel's lapels. But once he did, he took another step back. Away from the angel that Dean found intoxicating. His body gave an involuntary shudder at being denied what it wanted. “She turned me into a sex-deprived homosexual!” 

Castiel just tilted his head and looked confused at the two men while Sam burst into laughter.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A week later and another chapter. Enjoy reading! Let me warn you, I use proper anatomy terms. I know that might make some people uncomfortable and I apologize.
> 
> Thank you for the people who left kudos and comments on chapter one, for that, you get a special gift of.... One of Castiel's wing feathers. Just be careful, it might still have some 'angel mojo' in it, so don't point it at anyone or you might just disintegrate them. And I don't want the police arresting me.
> 
> Once again feel free to comment on anything good, bad or in-between!

“Shut up Sam. This isn't funny.” Dean growled from the back seat, sitting as far away from the angel as he could. Sam was driving them back to the motel deciding that Dean obviously needed to stay in that night. Castiel sat in the passenger's seat, his blue eyes gazing out the window at the passing scenery, almost as if he was tuning the brothers out. 

But even though Dean protested Sam could not stop laughing. “Dude, you've been turned gay and you latch on to a genderless angel occupying a man's body.” Sam chuckled as he turned the directional on, turning off the small road and onto a main one. “You like Castiel.”

“It'll wear off.” Dean commented back, slightly distracted by how the sun was sending bright flecks off Castiel's dark hair. Without thinking, Dean leaned forward and ran his hand down the side of Castiel's face feeling the stubble rasp against his fingers. 

Castiel turned his eyes off of the scenery and turned to look at Dean with his impassive eyes. Sam glanced over, seeing where Dean's hand was and joked in a serious tone, “Hands to yourself.”

Embarrassed, Dean pulled his hand away from Castiel's face and let them drop into his lap pushing down the erection that was beginning to form because he had touched the angel. A small annoyed sigh escaped Dean's lips as he turned away from his brother and the angel to stared out the window. The trees went by at a blur, the setting sun shining through the leaves and casting shadows in the car. 

But even trying to distract himself, Dean could feel the tug of desire towards the angel. The person who had become something like a brother to him in just a few short years. He knew he cared deeply for Castiel, but it was odd having that feeling for the angel coming out in a romantic way. Yes, the angel had chosen a rather handsome male vessel, no one could deny that. And Dean and Castiel had a history together, they had a past, a bloody, messy history. Though it may be different than many other peoples, they had a connection. Castiel had even raised Dean from Hell. And at the moment, Dean thought that was one of the sexiest things anyone could have ever done for him. 

Shaking his head, Dean tried to control this thoughts, move them away from the angel that was close in his proximity. But no matter what he tried his thoughts always drifted back to him. It was making Dean realize how big a part of his life Castiel was. 

“Dean?” Castiel asked, his deep voice filling the car. “Are you alright?”

Dean gladly pulled his eyes away from the window seeing the angel looking back at him, his deep, blue eyes searching Dean's face. “Yeah, yeah. I'm fine.”

Castiel nodded, looking perplexed. “Dean. I know that we have had our rough spots in the past, especially in my dealing with Zachariah, but have you not liked me previously to this curse?”

Dean sighed as Sam stifled a laugh, it would make sense that the angel would not understand. “No. Like as romantically, and gay as in homosexual”

“Oh. So you are not happy?” Castiel asked. The confusion leaving his face now that Dean had explained it to him, returning to it's stoic demeanor.

“God.” Dean said, not caring if he insulted Castiel with his blasphemy. Castiel's eyes were causing Dean's body to react in certain ways, and in this situation, the reaction was just uncomfortable. Dean pressed down harder on his erection. Wishing to hide the evidence and for it to go away. But the pressure caused some pleasure and Dean bit his lip to stop a small moan. This, of course, did not seem to go unnoticed by Castiel who just tilted his head at the hunter. “I'm a little too happy, Cas. Now please, go stare out the window.”

Sam could not hold it in anymore, letting his mirth bubble past his lips. That caused him receive a blank stare from Castiel, who then obeyed Dean's request and returned to looking out the window. Dean fumbled with his words slightly, wanting to say something to make sure he had not insulted the angel, but he knew he couldn't deal with talking to Castiel at the moment.

Instead, the hunter decided to focus on other things, such as the woman he slept with a few nights ago. He had picked her up at the bar and they had quick and hasty sex in the back of her car. It was really all Dean needed to get his fix, and once they were done they each went on their own separate ways. Simple, easy, unattached, fulfilling. With Castiel, it would be the exact opposite of that. But the more Dean focused on the woman, the more and more he found his erection leaving and himself becoming flaccid. 

Panic had set in and Dean opened his eyes in a huff, only to see Castiel watching him silently, an un-readable emotion in his eyes. If Dean could guess he would almost think it was sorrow or unhappiness perhaps even regret. Though, at the moment, Dean was in no condition to be reading emotions since the only one he wanted to see on the angels face is lust. Lust placed there by himself. But once Dean's green eyes had met Castiel's blue ones, the angel was back to looking out of the window. 

Dean willed Sam to drive faster, just wanting to lock himself up alone until this curse wore off and Dean could return to the booze-drinking, ladies man that he always was. Un-attached, non-emotional relationships. Unlike the one he would have with Castiel if the curse forced him to pursue it. Dean's body may want Castiel, but Dean knew he couldn't just use the angel for his own pleasure. That would be too harsh to do to his friend. Castiel would need a emotional connection too. And at the moment, that was just way over Dean's head.

Houses began to pass by on the side, large yards in the front, some with white picket fences surrounding their exterior. At this sight, the cursed hunter let out a soft sight. They were getting close to the motel room. Close to a safe haven for Dean and his uncontrolled emotions. And almost as if Dean's wish had come true, Sam was parking the Impala in front of the motel room they had gotten two days previous.

A loud squeak came out from the door as Dean pushed it open, almost tripping on his way out of the car, and headed towards the door of their motel room. He fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door open when he felt Castiel appeared next to him.

“Dean?” Castiel questioned again. 

But before he could say anything Dean growled, his voice filled with bridled desire, “Not now, Cas.” The key finally fit into the lock and Dean pushed the door open, heading in over the threshold into the dark room. 

Sam walked in behind Dean, turning on the lights as Castiel followed Sam, stopping in the corner of the room and watching Dean's actions with careful eyes. Since they had been so preoccupied with tracking the witch, they hadn't unpacked, their duffel bags rested at the foot of their beds, clothes pouring out of them as the Winchesters just grabbed what they needed out of them. The beds had been slept on, but over the comforter with only their coats and clothes to keep them warm. 

Castiel was able to take this all in as Dean walked into the bathroom, turning on the light and shutting the door behind him. The lock slid easily in place, and Dean rested his head against the closed door, his breathing heavy as he tried to ignore the reactions of what his body did when Castiel had appeared inches from him. When this was all over, Dean knew he was going to have to remind Castiel about personal space.

Fervent whispering could be heard through the door and Dean pressed his ear against the crack, catching the end of Sam muttering, “... now's not a good time, Cas.”

“I understand. I'll take my leave.” Castiel replied, his voice coming clear through the door due to his low tone.

“We... I... could always use your help, though.” Sam replied, and Dean could hear the chair from the table being pulled out, probably Sam sitting down in front of his laptop. 

“So you want me to stay?”

“Of course I do.”

“But Dean...?”

Sam chuckled, still finding the whole situation funny. “He'll straighten out soon enough.” There was silence between them and Dean could almost imagine Castiel standing in the room, his eyes surveying Sam, trying to see if he was telling the truth. “Honest, Cas. Sit down and we'll search for a new case. Unless you're too busy.”

Another chair scraped along the floor and Dean was imagining the trench coat flutter as Castiel sat down in the seat. “No, I am not.” Castiel replied and Dean pushed himself off the door, not wanting to listen anymore. 

Instead, Dean turned on the shower, adjusting the knobs to what he guessed would be an appropriate temperature, and threw his jacket off, letting it land in the corner. Then he pulled off his shirt and slid his boxers and jeans off his hips, kicking off his shoes and socks on the way. The shower water was warm, but the pressure was rather weak. 'Better than nothing.' Dean thought, letting the warm water run over his body, loosening the kinks in his muscles. His stomach was sore from where he had gotten punched by the witch. Even though she was small, she packed a powerful punch. Looking down at his toned body, Dean could see the black bruise spreading over his lower abdomen, changing colors due to the muscles if resided on. 

Dean stayed in the shower for what felt like hours, letting the hot water run over his body. He was surprised Sam wasn't banging on the door, yelling about sharing the hot water. Dean let the water hit his head and run down his back and off his face and shoulders, his palms pressed flat against the plastic wall, holding him up. 

As long as he did not think about Castiel, he would be fine. Just had to ignore the bastard until the curse was over. His blue eyes and deep voice. The way he had grabbed Dean and shoved him agains the wall before beating Dean up for running away and attempting to find Michael. They had been so close, face only inches apart. Granted, he had been in intense pain, Castiel's fist colliding with his face like a concrete block. Castiel closing his eyes, and letting out a small frustrated sigh that seemed almost too human. As if the thought of smiting Dean where he stood for being so ignorant was passing through his mind and he could barely contain completing the act. Castiel tilting his head, noticing that Dean did not think he deserved to be saved, blue eyes searching his face in confusion. Castiel's skin healing, but the blood on his face remaining, as he looked up at Dean after saving the human again. Memories flashed behind his closed eyes lids in rapid progression. Forcing his eyes open, Dean found himself staring at his hands on the wall before he pushed himself up straight. Something was different with him and Dean glanced down his wet and naked body, noticing his erection that had formed when he was thinking about the angel. 

“Fuck.” Dean swore, impatience and embarrassment flooding his body as he reached down and pressed his penis down, hoping it would go away.

But instead, his body had become sensitive and Dean raised his hand to stifle a moan of pleasure that threaten to escape his lips at the pressure. As Dean pulled his hand away, his penis returned to its erect position and Dean just sighed, resting a hand on the wall as his other hand idly stroked the shaft, his fingers feeling the taunt skin. 

Dean closed his eyes again, seeing Castiel's face appear in his mind, looking powerful, the shadow of his wings on the barn wall. Dean's hand paused before it encircled his penis and began to stroke slowly. Castiel chugging a bear with fear easily noticed on his face. Staring dumb-founded up at the girl who had approached them. Dean's strokes increased, moving faster and faster, a small moan leaving his lips. The angel staring at him with his blue eyes as he asked for the hunter's necklace, a pleading look hidden in his eyes. Dean was panting by now, his body shaking with the intense pleasure. It needed this release after the whole afternoon of desiring his best friend. Castiel watching him as Anna kissed him on the lips, his face unreadable, lacking emotion. Dean flicked his hand as he reached the end of his penis letting it rub over the head as his speed increased, small gasps escaped his lips at that, and he knew he was not going to last long. 

The next image, Dean knew his mind had made up, but a throaty moan came out of him from it none the less. Castiel underneath him, sweat glistening on his forehead as his back arched, a small gasp escaping his lips from the enjoyment. 

“Castiel.” Dean shuddered, feeling his body shake as he ejaculated, his penis twitching at the release. The orgasm raked through his body, his muscles seizing as he thrust forward into the air. As the last few spurts ended, Dean sighed, a feeling of bliss and relaxation coming over his body as he slumped against the wall, watching his penis jerk as the last few drops of semen left his body. 

After a few seconds Dean realized what he had done and he pushed himself off the wall. If there was anything that could put a damper on a friendship and make it awkward, that would be it. Thankfully, only one person involved knew what had happened, and Dean planned on keeping it that way. And once this curse wore off, hopefully everything would be back to normal.


End file.
